Lorien Lost
by curios
Summary: A serious fic about yet another girl sent to ME through mysterious circumstances we all wish could happen. Haldir/OFC. Please review
1. Chapter 1

A girl lay on the sofa, flipping through a magazine without really reading or looking at the pictures. She flipped too quickly and was only doing so to look as if she were not angry.

"It will only be a few weeks," said her mother. "I'll be back before you know it. I'll even bring you a souvenir!" The girl said nothing and just flipped past a few more pages. "Look," the mother said frustrated, and upset "I'm almost 40! I've never been married and all these years I've been spending all my time raising you, and now you're twenty. If I want to go off to California to spend a month in a vineyard with my boyfriend then I think you should just do the adult thing and let me!"

The girl mumbled something under her breath, into her magazine. "What was that," the mother asked. Silence. "Catherin Louise Sunbury, what did you say?"

"I said," Catherin said finally with a raised voice, putting down her magazine, "That it wouldn't bother me so much if this weren't your fifth month-long vacation with your ninth boyfriend this year! I said that I wouldn't be annoyed if _they_ paid for any of it, and _I said_ that _I_ shouldn't have to be the only adult in this house! If you want to gallivant about with boys, you go ahead, but don't make excuses and lie to yourself that it's okay because you were an awesome mother. If you want to go, that's fine just don't expect me to kiss you farewell. While you walk out that door, I am going to sit here, on this couch and read about the women in Nigeria and all the stuff that they do."

"Fine. If that's how you're going to be, then I'm just going to leave. You stay in a snit. It's not my problem." The mother picked up her many bags, some with straps over her shoulders, some with handles being held, and left. Catherin was flipping through her magazine once more but could feel a breeze from the open front door blowing in. She heard her mom's car doors open and close, the engine start, and finally the car drove off. Finally she was alone.

She put her magazine down and got up to close the door. It was a beautiful autumn day outside. The weather this year had been fairly erratic and it was a sunny sixty degrees. The cats were playing with fallen leaves as they blew about in the wind. It was mid-afternoon so they would need to come in soon, once the sun started to set.

Her mom and she had inherited her grandmother's country home a few years ago, since then the orchard had shriveled and they had lost three cats. Since the last one had gone, Catherin tried to get them in before it got even dim outside. She had been chasing after it and had to act quickly in order to leap over a huge ditch she barely noticed in the darkness. Later she had tried to find the hole, but it was nowhere to be found. The cats would need to come in very soon, she shuddered to herself, creepy black pits that came and left as they pleased were more than her mind could bare. There had always been something eerie about this old house. Not the house itself so much, other than floors and walls and a roof the creaked, but there was always a looming feeling that something was not right there. An odd feeling of other-worldliness.


	2. A Rude Awakening

Catherin had only meant to rest for a moment, but the arguement she had with her mother left her mentally exhausted. By the time she woke it was dark as pitch outside, clouds that were not there during the daytime blocking even the light of what would be a three quarter moon.

"Oh, God." She said standing up. The cats would most likely all be outside, frolicking around without a cayote-based mind in their fuzzy heads. "Ohgodohgodohhod!" She ran across the room and slammed the front door which had been open all day, not wanting any cats that were in, to go out. She went to the table beside the couch and lit up a cigarette.

'Okay. First things first: Who's in already, and whom do I need to get angry at?' She did an inventory as quickly as she could manage having just woken up and the house being, although not large, not very small either. There were all kinds of nooks and crannies in which the cats could and did hide in, but she counted eight. Eight of nine. The only cat not in was the new boy named Spike, who was always outside when one did not want him to be, and was always the most thick-headed

"Okay…" she sighed out smoke. "Okay. One. I can get one." But inside she still remembered last time with Dina, the last one that left for good and seriously freaked her out. She remembered that huge hole in the ground over which she had jumped and in the morning was completely gone. There wasn't even a small dip that may have been oddly shadowed in the night. There was nothing except her shaken nerves. Now she had to go _back_ outside in the dark? _Stupid_ cat.

Catherin put three cigarettes in one pocket of her comfy pants and her lighter in the other. Last time it had taken her a couple hours to get Spike back in, and she wanted to be prepared. She rushed forward and stopped, looking irritatingly at the small wooden table by the door, covered with mail. The answering machine light was blinking 1…1…1…over and over again, and compulsively, Catherin pushed play.

"Cady," the voice sobbed, "it's your mom. Stan and I just had this huge fight and…and I'm not going to California. I'll be there in a few hours, I just…I just have to do something first. I'll be home. Bye."

Catherin rolled her eyes, grabbed a cheap flashlight, and went outside, slamming the door behind her. 'That F-ing cat doesn't know what he's getting himself into this time'

She had been outside for an hour and a half now and was pretty sure the damned animal was toying with her. In the dim light of her ninety nine cent flashlight, she kept spotting the flicking tip of an orange tail just as it ran just out of site once more. She stood in the small field that was once her grandmother's garden and held the flashlight high, trying to see further in the darkness. The skeletons of old pear trees swayed in a night wind, about to become a storm, and in between them she spotted two reflective eyes staring back at her.

"Got you…" she whispered, secretly hoping that was the cat and not something else, and walked on. She strode quickly through the tall grass, all the while watching the green eyes in the dark. A gale of wind blew hard from the north, and Catherin turned away, batting her short hair out of her eyes, knocking her glasses to the ground as she stepped forward into a the chasm that had silently opened up before her.

"Shit!" She screamed as she began to fall. And fall. She barely had time to think before she hit the ground and was knocked out cold in a grassy field.

Catherin awoke with a splitting headache and absolutely no idea where she was. She assumed that she was still on her property, but she could see nothing but blurred shapes and colors if it was beyond two feet in front of her. The grass was tall and ahead of her were trees. Had she wandered so far from the house that she had gone through the miniature forest in the backyard? She could not remember. She remembered trees and looking for Spike, and apparently she'd lost her glasses at some point. On her hands and knees, she squinted at the ground through the grass, looking for a pair of black frames, but could not find them.

"Fine," she said aloud. "Spare glasses here I come."

She stood up in the tall grass, and looked to either side of her: Field, more field, and trees.

"Mom had better be home, or I'm going to…call her." Driving had just never been Catherin's thing. She stressed far too easily, her mother had said. Admittedly, she was a rather anxious person, but there were just so many things to be anxious about. Besides, she'd spent the whole night outside in the dark without her glasses and she was fine. She just had to get home without getting bitten by a snake or something. 'Onward! Through the trees!' she cheered herself forward.

And on she walked, toward the forest in front of her without even a glance at the mountains behind…

Meanwhile, inside the borders of the forest, the guards of Lorien were watching this new figure approach. It was not an orc, that was plain to see; it was definitely human. The question was whether or not this human was a danger. Either way, of course, it would have to be turned away, but, if female, it may need help finding a city, and if male, it may just need to be killed. The trouble that the guards were currently facing was a question of gender. Even with their keen elven eyes they were having difficulty determining the sex of this human. If it was a male, he was very young, and so probably not a threat. If it was a female…it just didn't look female. From that, Rumil determined that it was most likely a young boy, and so would need to be turned away from the forest, but not helped in anyway, and was most likely not a threat; however if he was resistant to orders, may just need to be killed anyway. They could not risk being infiltrated by humans, particularly now with the orc hoards already defiling the borders of the elven city. So, when the mortal came within its hearing range, Rumil would tell it to leave.

"_My bet is that it is female"_ said Rumil's watch companion, Oronar. "_One never can tell with these human females."_

"_That is ridiculous on many levels, my friend. Why in this world or the next would a human female, disguise herself as a man only to wander to Lorien unaccompanied? And what would you bet this far from the city, anyway?"_

"Rations, of course. I have an extra loaf of lambas that says that_ is a female. And who knows with humans. They don't allow their women to fight like we do. Perhaps she means to prove herself in some way."_

"_I hope for her sake, if it is a female, that you are wrong, for then we would need to treat her as male. I've never harmed a female, of any race, and I wish not to start now."_

The moments passed slowly to the elves, high in their trees, waiting for Catherin to get within earshot. She walked slowly and carefully, as she could barely see. She was anticipating a deer or rabbit to flee from her footsteps, or to be attacked by a snake or a patch of burrs. The journey, home, however, was so far simple and uneventful, for which she was thankful.

"_What is taking him so long? And why is he walking as if tramping through a bog? Do you think he's tetched?"_

Rumil watched the human closely, thoughtfully. _"I don't know why _she_ is acting so strangely, but I think I may have an idea. I'm going to try something. Stand by. If my notion is correct, you will need to fetch the Marchwarden."_

Rumil drew up his bow and an arrow from his quiver and took his time aiming. A yard in front and another yard to left, and let loose his arrow.

There was a strange whistling noise right before Catherin heard a loud popping noise from somewhere in front of her. She made a strangled scream that came out as more of a squeak as she turned quickly on her heal and fell over. She did not know what the sound was but figured that the sooner she got away from it and back home, the better. She stood up as quickly as she could, and took off in a dead run toward the trees.

"_She's running right at us!" _Oronar whispered with urgency in his voice.

Rumil got another arrow and shot the ground in front of the running boy, hoping it would make him stop, but instead he just made another startled noise and kept running. 'No, stop. Stop you foolish child! You cannot enter here without permission; all in Middle Earth know that!'

"_Rumil, take him down!"_

"_She cannot see. She doesn't know."_

"_Then don't aim to kill, but you don't know his intention."_

"Very well." Rumil took a third arrow, took aim, and let it loose. As soon as the arrow pierced the thigh of the girl –and it was made clear that it was indeed a girl—the body once running disappeared into the tall grass and immediately there was a loud, piercing scream of agony.

Catherin lay in the grass staring at the stick that had gone straight through her leg. Tears of pain streamed from her eyes as she put her hand to the wound, touching the arrow, sleek gray feathers on the end protruding from the front. "What the f*ck?" she gasped. Her heart was beating in her throat and in her head; she did not know whether she was going to be sick or pass out, whether more blood was rushing out the wound or to her head. Her breathing went from uneasy to hyperventilation, and just before everything went black, there was a rustling in the trees…


	3. Boomerang, thanks to trees

A/N: There are some inconsistancies, I'm sure. If you readers see them, and care (which I imagine you will) please be kind enough to let me know in a private response or review. And please, be polite.

Chapter 3

Haldir stood on the flat with his brother and fellow guard looking out into the field. "_What is happening here, Rumil?"_

"_It is a girl…or young boy. We are still unsure. She…he…the human cannot see and was running toward the border. I fired two warning arrows, and was finally forced to bring her down."_

"_Ah! Rumil! You did not kill the child, did you?"_

"_Oh, no. I shot him in the thigh, I think she may have just passed out."_

"_Did you tell him to stop?"_

"_No brother. I was waiting for him to come within earshot, before she started running, and then she was close enough…I just reacted. I am used to orcs, not young humans."_

Haldir sighed and turned to Oronar. "_Go now, quickly. We will need a healer and a messenger, and someone here to man your post in the meantime. You Rumil, are coming with me."_

Before leaving the scaffold, they looked in all directions their elven eyes could see, making sure this was not some sort of trap set by the orcs that now resided in Moria. Sure that there were no enemies waiting to ambush them should they wander out, Haldir and Rumil left the trees.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Catherin awoke, she didn't bother opening her eyes; she knew that it was all a dream. She had fallen asleep on the couch and had not woken up yet. Judging by how hard the sofa was getting the futon cushion obviously needed to be flipped again, and one of the cats _must_ have just clawed her in the sleep, but there was a distinctive out-doors sent in the air, so the door must have just been left open.

'Well, time to survey the damage,' she thought opening her eyes and groaning.

Trees. Not generally the first thing one imagines when one thinks of a nightmare, but here they were. Big, beautiful tree tops, closer than one afraid of heights, such as Catherin, has ever seen in person. It was dark out now, so much time had passed, and yet the hyperventilating continued as if no time had passed at all. She was freezing, lying on a pallet made of piled up furs and covered with a skin and what, after some inspection, appeared to be a hooded cape. Under the coverings, her right pant leg might as well have been removed completely; there was a vertical cut up both the front and the back of it that looked as if it took a great deal of effort, the cloth stiff with dried blood. Under the cloth that hung almost pointlessly now, there was a bandage wrapped tightly around her thigh, the slightest bit of crimson spotting through. Looking at it, Catherin realized that the arrow must have gone completely through her leg, a thought that instantly made her sick to her stomach, never really good at dealing with blood and gore.

Head spinning now, she looked around her, trying to find the one who had bandaged her, and possibly the person who had shot her.

It was dark in the forest, and eerily quiet. No one was on this platform with her. She lay back down on her back and closed her eyes, ignoring the pain in her leg which hurt much less than it seemed like it should, she listened carefully. Other than an autumn breeze rustling through the trees there was no sound of movement; no voices whispering nearby.

Catherin sat back up and looked around again, this time for something different. Finding the hole in the platform, she rolled herself onto hands and knees and crawled to the opening. Seeing for the first time how far off the ground she was startled her. This obviously was not the type of tree house a kid might have in their backyard. It was more like a fortress in its height. Also, to her annoyance, there were no planks of wood nailed to the trunk for a ladder. In fact, there seemed to be no way down other than falling, whether it be straight down or from branch to branch.

Catherin growled with frustration before looking around again. There, on the other side of the hole in the floor was a rope ladder, rolled up neatly, attached with some unusual hardware. She reached across the hole, for it was only big enough for a man of average build to come through comfortably, and knocked it toward her so that it unrolled to its full length.

'Now for the hard part,' she thought looking down what had to be more than 75 feet and readying herself for the climb. Even on two sturdy legs and a ladder that didn't rock when carrying a person it would be an uneasy climb. Luckily Catherin had good strength in her arms, but nonetheless the descent was going to hurt. A lot.

Preparing herself, she carefully maneuvered herself to sit on the edge of the threshold. A fall wind blew loudly through the treetops not too far above her. "Staaay," they whispered airily.

"Not without good reason, " she stated, plainly back, and bending forward to grab hold of the first rung, she let herself fall from her sturdy seat with a small squeak of insecurity. The rundles struck the front of her and the ropes creaked from the weight of her and the quick movement of the fall.

When the ropes stopped swaying and she was able to breathe again, she put the foot of her good leg onto a rung; she began her slow decline to the ground, watching her surrounding the whole time. She gripped the rope one below the previous one tightly, then let her legs fall only to try and find a step with her good leg again, and continued this process. Occasionally she would try to hold her weight with her bad leg and climb down normally, but muscles that have a hole in them do not work nearly as well as ones without. After a long while though, with many whispered swears, grunts, groans, and a jaw aching from much clinching, she made it to the bottom, and promptly fell onto her back in exhaustion. Knowing there was not much, if any time for rest, she quickly as she could righted herself with help from the handy rope ladder and began limping in a random direction. Her objective: to get as far away from where they wanted her as possible.

The trees were never silent once she'd left the tree fort. If they had no words they simply blew and shook, the wind constant. Catherin refused to listen and did all she could to hurry through the woods. Determined she was to get home. Her whole body hurt now, and she was tired, and could barely walk at all.

"I'm not listening!" she said, louder than she knew she should. "You can blow, you can plead, you can say what you want, but until you give me an enlightening reason as to _why_ I should stay." She leaned against the trunk of a tree steadying herself on her good leg –the one thing in her body that hurt the least—her head spinning, her stomach swirling from tension, hunger and reaction to pain.

"Help" they finally said.

"Help with what?"

"Help" they repeated.

She stood quiet, holding onto the tree behind her with both hands. A small drop of rain fell through the canopy above and splashed upon her face. She hardly noticed.

"Did you bring me here?" she said at last, very quietly.

There was no response but the rustling of leaves.

"Is this your doing?" She demanded, more loudly.

After some time they finally answered, "Nooo."

"Fine then, " she sighed. "I'll stay. For you. But you'd better put me home when this is over and done with." She slid into a pile of limbs at the base of her supporting trunk. She may be staying, but she had no intention of walking all that distance and climbing that ladder again unassisted. She closed her eyes and took three shallow breaths, and finally one very deep breath which she let out in the form of a very long, loud, high-pitched, wordless scream. It did not cross her mind that she could be attracting more than one type of attention; good and bad. Nor did it cross her mind that many with fairly sensitive ears could be near, having fallowed her from the healing flet, and watching her all the way. The elves in the surrounding trees, and many close by, all flinched at the piercing sound.

'Come and find me , then,' she thought and no sooner had she thought it than someone spoke to her.

"What is it, precisely, that you hoped to accomplish by that? You do not seem in pain."

There was a man standing directly in front of her. He stood very tall above her crouching form and had an air of extreme confidence, even arrogance, as if the thought of her harming him was not just unlikely but plain un-thought of. It made Catherin want to stand up and cause him as much pain as she could, but she knew that at the moment, that would be a laughable amount of discomfort, and would be very stupid of her.

"Well, you're wrong. I _am _in pain. But that isn't why I screamed."

He raised an eyebrow at her response and asked "Then what was the reason behind your cry?"

She forced herself up, standing, and made to push her glasses up her nose – a nervous gesture she grown accustom to—only to find that they were not there. She felt surprised and a bit afraid, and was sure it showed on her face, so quickly continued as if nothing was wrong. "To get your attention. Although I didn't think you were as close as it seems like you were."

"You surprise me, Lady."

"How's that?" she asked, but was thinking more on how he had called her Lady in such a chivalric way.

"Only a fool would attempt drawing attention to themselves in these woods at night. My surprise is that you had thought at all before you acted."

"And who was it who sh—"

"You must hold your arguments for later," he interrupted. "Now is not the time. We must get off the ground. Follow me, and hurry." The man began to walk away at a fast pace.

"Wait," Catherin called after him. He stopped and walked back, not nearly as hastily as he'd walked away from her, she noticed. "I can barely walk, let alone as fast as you were. I'll go wherever, but at the moment, I physically _can't._" A look of confusion came and went from his face then he approached her slowly, almost stalking.

"Then allow me to assist you," he said plainly. He grabbed her wrist and put it around his neck, and ignoring her protest and rudely phrase questioning, bent down and scooped her up before walking just as quickly, if not faster than he had been before. They made their way back to the same tree she had just escaped and he put her down in front of the ladder she had previously unrolled.

"You are heavier than you look," he said candedy.

"Gee, thanks." She rolled her eyes and was reminded of her lack of lenses. It made her uncomfortable to be without them. She looked at the ladder. "Am I supposed to climb back up?"

"If you can which I doubt. Put your arms about my neck and I will take you to the top."

"Ah… Okay…" She stepped closer to him, and standing at arms distance, placed a hand upon his shoulder. She looked down at the ground and blushed perfusley. His clothes were rough against her hand. He did not seem to notice her embarrassment as he took her other arm by the wrist and put it up around his neck, doing so he drew her closer to him.

Catherin's face brushed against the scratchy material of what seemed to be a cloak. She looked up at his face inches from hers and crossed a line of how close she could get to a perfect stranger. She pulled both of her arms away from him and limped back several feet.

"There's got to be another way of doing this thing."

He looked at her blankly. "There is, but this way is less difficult for me than to carry you over my shoulder, and less difficult for you than to climb the distance."

"Okay, then. Climbing it is. You just climb behind me and make sure I don't kill myself."

"That seems unnecessarily difficult, but as you like it." He gestured toward the ladder and she walked past him to it. She began to climb up and was only four feet from the ground, her eyes tearing up with pain, and she froze.

"Why have you stopped?"

"It hurts," she gasped.

"We have no time for indecision. Whatever you choose, you need to hurry." He sounded very cross, but gave no time for Catherin to respond as he grabbed by the waist and flung her over his shoulder like a sack, and began climbing.

He ascended very quickly, and she did not speak the whole way up.


	4. Lothlorien: a no smoking zone

Chapter 4

There were four other men at the top of the ladder. Waiting, with the exception of one, who seemed to be waiting for the man who carried her. The others just looked as if they were staring into the distance. There were five of them: three standing, looking in different directions. The others sitting, huddled together, there eyes seemed glazed over, their stares blank. Catherin thought they may be dead, before they were shaken into awareness by one of the others.

They all had very long, almost platinum-colored hair. It had not seemed out of the ordinary when it was only one man, but now there were six. Their attire, too, was strange. They all wore very dull outfits of greens, gray and tan; their pants were woolen, and they wore high boots tied tightly around their legs. Their shirts were tunic-styled shirts and over that vest and cloak. Catherin was no historian, no matter how much she'd read, but she'd been to enough renaissance festivals to know a good costume when she saw one and these did not seem costume-like in the least. The cloth was of a very high quality, put together a little too accurately, and most importantly, they looked lived in. The knees and elbows worn a bit thin, the lighter colored parts dust-stained. These clothes did not look as if they were only being worn three days out of the year. Although they most definitely had a renaissance look to them, they had another sort of air about them, as if while looking of that time they also looked of no time she could recognize at all. Like something from a fairy tale.

Catherin stood still on the platform observing the men in some disbelief. There was one more tiny, but ever so significant detail that among them: their ears came to a perfect and delicate, although still sharp, point. She cleared her throat purposefully and only the first man who had carried her looked, the others going about their business of getting the ladder up and getting...arrows...out. Catherin looked around nervously before asking, "It may seem kinda weird of me to ask this _now_, but, um, where am I?"

The question must have come off as quite strange indeed as his face ever so slightly showed as much. "You are in Lothlorien. The forest east of the Misty Mountains and north of Rohan, where I assume is your homeland."

"Ah huh. And what about all of _those_ places? Like, where is _this, _here." She waved her arms about for emphasis.

"I do not understand."

"Okay. Like, um...What _country_ is this?"

His expression change from stern back to showing that he thought she may be either crazy or stupid.

She sighed deeply and tried to push her glasses up her nose only to find that they were not there, a reminder of their absence, and so pushed her hair behind her ear instead and shoved her hands in her pockets defeatedly. "Okay then, is there someone _else_ who can help me? Like, someone who knows basic geography? I need some help here; I'm thinking I may be more lost that I think I am."

"There is a messenger now on way to the Lord and Lady of Lorien inquiring what should be done with you. He should return by morning."

"By morning? Aren't we _in_ Lorien right now?"

"We are inside the borders of the forest, yes."

"Then why don't we just walk there right now and ask? I wanna go home."

"It is nearly a full day's walk there. Depending upon the return message, you may see them the morning after next, otherwise you will be escorted out of these woods and strongly advised not to return. Either way; however, I would suggest you sleep while you can, as it is not a short walk in either direction."

"Guuhh," she grunted airily. "Fine." Catherin defeatedly walked over to where the pile of furs and cloaks she had woken in before still lay and flopped down as dramatically and ungracefully as she could, wrapping one of the cloaks around her shoulders. It was a fairly chilly night, but not unpleasant to her as she preferred to be cold than warm.

She sat and watched the strange men, not feeling the least bit tired. The five who had been present when she returned were staring into the distance intently, two different men now huddled together near a trunk that came through the floor, their eyes eerily clouded with lack of moisture. Her escort, who seemed to be the leader of the small group, went from one to the next of the standing men whispering in a strange language Catherin had never heard before. Occasionally he would glance back at her giving her the disturbing feeling that she was the topic of their hushed conversation. Probably trying to figure out why she was there.

'Hopefully...' Catherin thought. 'And where is _here_, anyway? The trees are weird here. Taller than at home, and gray barked. They all have _leaves_. Not a single pine among them. Egh, I need a cigarette. Wonder if he'd push me over the side if I just lit one up... No harm in asking, I guess. Except that I'll have to listen to him talk again and it's pissing me off how pissed off he seems. Wonder what happened to my glasses. Why can my blind ass see? I feel a headache coming on...'

"Hey, uh...Guy!" He looked over to her. She waited for him to say his name or give her something to call him, but he said nothing. "Okay, then. Do you mind if I smoke?" She took a slightly bent cigarette out of her pocket and waved it back and forth for emphasis.

He quirked an eyebrow again, but said nothing for a short while. Finally, he said simply "Yes. I would." As that seemed to end the discussion for him, Catherin thought it best to let it go as well. Every smoker knows that not everyone is smoke tolerant.

The short conversation; however, did not end her craving for a nicotine. Sleeping would not come easily. Not out in the open air, fifty feet above ground, surrounded by strange men, trees talking again, vision mysteriously fixed, and now no cigarette to ease the stress of the situation? Oh, the agony!


End file.
